Stalls ✔️

F O U R

I just want to say thank you to those who are still reading. For someone who hardly gets noticed on this website, it means a lot to me. Don't forget, if you enjoy reading, leave a comment and a vote!
-Mable Faviago ©

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0 4:

Sunday morning started with a shake. A literal shake. My breathing hitched as two hands clutched my shoulders forcefully. My eyes snapped open, revealing two familiar faces: my mum's and Riley's.

My mum was in her pink satin pyjamas and dressing gown, but Riley was dressed in a black and white plaid shirt and jeans, his hair neatly fluffed at the top of his forehead. He pulled away, taking a seat at the bottom of my bed, causing the mattress to subside.

"Morning all." I greeted groggily, in exasperation. Wiping away the disgusting sleep from my eyes, I sat up underneath my mellow quilt. I'd woken up to this kind of scenery before, so I wasn't embarrassed; Riley practically lived here at the weekends. "What time is it?"

"It's nearly noon." My mum spoke first, before planting a single, sloppy kiss on my forehead. Glancing surreptitiously, I noticed her and Riley exchange amused glances, and he snickered.

I jokingly announced, "Shit, why didn't you wake me before? You pair of bitches," before tearing back the quilt and struggling to my feet. They laughed. I peered through the mirror, noticing my light hair in complete disarray and childish superhero pyjamas crumpled at the sides. "Be back as soon as I can." I said, yawning. I changed quickly in the bathroom, into a flash t-shirt and jeans, with a over-sized flannel shirt draping over it.

Riley and I skipped dinner. We climbed into my dad's grey pick-up truck, as he offered to drive us there.

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It was early afternoon, about 1pm when we arrived at the Carnival. I thanked my dad for the ride, and Riley escorted us to our designated stall, which was directly beside the tombola and the circus tent. The first thing I noticed was the weather; the sun was beaming down, out-stretching along the humongous grassland. It wasn't alarmingly hot, but wasn't unbearably cold either. Perfect Spring Carnival weather.

As well as the main stage, rides were scattered around the area; from tiny, gentle ones for infants to humongous death contraptions for the teenagers. The maze of reflection sent shock waves through my mind, and for a split second, the ground underneath me felt further away. The overpowering tsunami-smell of white coffee and ketchup flooded through the air from the nearby kiosks, and the cheerful music played from the speakers high above us.

We walked further through the abundance of visitors. I noticed Wren and Hunter selling a piece of art and a CD to an elderly lady - the art itself was surprisingly amazing. Hunter's chestnut skin looked radiant under the sun's rays, and Wren was smiling deeply in our direction.

It was overwhelming, to say the least, that everyone was here for Riley. I just hoped it was enough.

"So she's alive then?" Hunter asked.

I nodded and shot her a weak smile, since Hunter was subconsciously unreadable. I slipped behind our stall between Riley and Wren, wrapping a black money pouch tightly around my waist. Wren tied it at the back for me, just below the tips of my hair. "Have we made much so far?" I inquired, my eyes skimming the items laid out on the two connected tables.

As well as Hunter's art, we'd managed to pull together two piles of vintage CDs, heaps of stuffed toys and Nintendo games and a whole batch of astonishingly beautiful trinkets and dream catchers.

"I'd say so, there's already £25.50 in here." Hunter said, referring to the glass jar that she was shaking. That was the last thing she said for the whole afternoon, and we got to work straight away.

By the end of the Carnival, beads of sweat were rolling down the sides of my forehead. Hunter had passed out on one of the deckchairs we hired, snoring soundlessly, as Wren and I had taken the other one. Riley was flicking the money between his fingers. Counting.

He placed the jar back on the table, grinning from ear to ear like he'd won the lottery. "That would be.. £110.50!" He exclaimed, and we highfived triumphantly. I hauled myself up from Wren's lap and hugged my bestfriend. Everyone was completely delighted, until I felt his phone vibrating against my thigh. He slipped it from the front pocket of his jeans, and touched the green button. I only heard half of the conversation.

"Hello.. Yes mum, it's me... No, mum, we can't, I have the money right here... Grandma? What's wrong with her?... Is she gonna be okay?... Fine, alright.. I'll see you at home." He cut the call, and everyone fell silent. The only sound within a few feet was the cheerful music floating out of the speaker. All traces of 'cheerful' were completely lost in the spring breeze.

Riley ran a hand frustratedly over his face, then curled his fingers tightly through his curls (something, I learnt, which he does when he's most nervous). He took a step back, and I noticed everyone's eyes were fixated on him.

That's when he began speaking, "Guys, I'm so greatful for today, and don't ever think that I did this out of spite. It's my grandma, she's really ill, the Doctors think- Alright, they misinterpreted her time left. I hope you understand that we can't stay here, even if we wanted to, which we do. That's why Hunter, take this."

"Take what?" She asked dreamily, still slumped over in the deckchair.

He took a £50 note off the table, wrapping it tightly in an elastic band and tossing it to her. "For your art. If I have no objections, I'm taking the rest to buy you all something special before I go. And Al, here." He slipped a £5 note from the pile, and placed it firmly in my palm. "A slushy, for everyone, to say thank you for today."

I simply nodded, and staggered away. I was completely disillusioned, it was like I was stuck in a maze and I needed to escape, but the exit was further than eye could see. Without warning, I stumbled from my original path to the slushy kiosk and towards The Mirror Maze near the main stage.

I took a drunken step inside. Then another. A maze of reflection. It resembled the way I imagined it almost perfectly: empty. A few pieces of rubbish scattered along the grass carpet.

I leaned forward, tracing my fingers gently along the outline of my face. I stared at my ghostly features; my light blue eyes and pale skin. My eyes bored into themselves, and I couldn't account for anything else after that.

I dropped to the cold floor, utterly devastated. My motionless limbs no longer hospitalised my body. I cried hysterically (a panicky type of cry), and streams of tears scampered from my tear ducts like tiny tsunamis. My breathe uncontrollable and shaky, in which I panicked more.

I just couldn't grasp the idea that my only bestfriend was leaving the town, the only advantage being I wouldn't have to smell his disgusting subs. And suddenly, I was stood in the bathroom stall again, wanting to relieve my gut. The mental maze I couldn't get out of closed its doors behind me, and I yelped. I yelped in hope that my thoughts would swallow me whole.

An unfamiliar voice snapped me from my thoughts. "Shit, are you alright?"